


And suddenly, you're 17 again.

by Mouse (clandestineAbattoir)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 3 am breakdowns, Alternate Universe - Human, Crying, M/M, Wedding Planning, Wedding planning related stress, mentions of poverty, platonic use of the word sugar daddy, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:05:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestineAbattoir/pseuds/Mouse
Summary: God, if Patton wouldn’t be devastated, he’d call the whole wedding off in sheer frustration. He slammed his computer shut, tears pricking at his eyes, and suddenly, he was 17 again, sitting on his breaking Walmart loft bed he had begged for in eighth grade staring at college tuitions and loans and interest rates and wondering how in the hell he was supposed to pay for anything.





	And suddenly, you're 17 again.

Logan removed his glasses, eyes sore and heavy from staring at the now blurry excel sheet. He had been hunched over like this for hours, thinking, worrying. Was this what Virgil felt like all the time? God, he hoped it wasn’t. He hated this, and he couldn’t imagine this pressure against his rib cage being a permanent feeling. 

Tiredly, he spared one last glance at the computer before him, numbers sorted into rows, calculated into a total. He had promised his fiancé, Patton, he could handle the budget for the wedding, find some way to get casts down to on- or, more ideally, under budget. But it just wasn’t fucking  _ working _ . No matter what inessential elements he eliminated, everything was too expensive. God, if Patton wouldn’t be devastated, he’d call the whole wedding off in sheer frustration. He slammed his computer shut, tears pricking at his eyes, and suddenly, he was 17 again, sitting on his breaking Walmart loft bed he had begged for in eighth grade staring at college tuitions and loans and interest rates and wondering how in the  _ hell  _ he was supposed to pay for anything. He stifled a sob that was burning in his throat, careful not to alert Patton to his panic in the other room. Patton couldn’t know how much he was struggling. How much  _ they _ were struggling.As much as he loved him, he wouldn’t,  _  couldn’t _ understand. Patton didn’t have these problems, growing up. He grew up in a nice house, in a small town, and never knew the pain of wanting some mundane thing so achingly much, but not asking because he knew how much his family  _ couldn’t afford it. _ Never sat thinking how his parents only bought him chocolate bars to make themselves feel less poor because they could treat their kid to  _ something _ . This wasn’t to say Patton had never struggled. He had, and Logan knew that, and Logan appreciated that. But not in the same way Logan had. 

Instinctively, in his empty, all consuming hopelessness, he had reached for his phone and dialed a number. Roman’s. His best friend since he was six.

“Lo, it’s like 3 am dude what the fuck?” Roman’s voice was groggy, and confused. Logan struggled for something to say for a moment, but his voice finally settled on croaking out-- “I hadn’t noticed.”

A pause. Logan thought Roman might have hung up for a second.

“Logan, are you  _ crying? _ ”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. Get over here. I’ll make you some coffee.”

“I-.. I don’t want to be a bother,” he was frantically rubbing at his eyes now, in an attempt to regain some semblance of his composure.

“Motherfucker shut up,”Roman drawled, “get your ass over here before I drag it here.” 

Logan sighed. “Very well, I’ll be over in a bit.”

He hung up the phone, shoving his computer in his bag and putting his glasses back on, and searching for a piece of scrap paper to scrawl a note to Patton so he didn’t get worried.  _ Back soon. _ He toed on his old combat boots, easy to slip on after years of love, and slipped out the door.

The 3 am air was brisk and damp, made his bad knee hurt, but Logan didn’t mind too much. It woke him up just a bit, and the walk to Roman’s was short. After college they had found it strange not being within a block or so of each other like they had been growing up, so they moved into places that were a close distance. Logan could make the walk with his eyes closed, muscle memory being so instilled in him from having walked it so many times. Which was helpful, because he hadn’t fully managed to stop the tears which blurred his vision. 

Roman’s door was unlocked when he arrived. Unsurprising. Logan nagged him about his door being locked when he knew he was coming over enough times that he remembered to unlock it now. Roman was in his pajamas, stirring some creamer into a mug- a mug Logan had left at Roman’s house at some point apparently because that was his mug-- of coffee. 

“Hey bro,” Roman shoved the cup of coffee into Logan’s hands and went to sit at the dining room table-- the one he had growing up too, same tablecloth and everything; it was like he was 17 again, running away from shitty parents and even shittier nights, to safety, and Roman's couch.

“Sit,” he commanded, and Logan did. “What’s up? Why are you calling my crying at three AM? Is it Patton?”

“It’s not Patton,” Logan took a sip of coffee to calm his nerves. It was just barely sweet, and hot in a way that hurt his teeth, but it helped the tears abate and gave him a moment to gather himself. “It’s the wedding. I can’t fucking-” his voice went hoarse and he cleared his throat forcefully, “I can’t get everything on budget, no matter what I try.”

“What’s you budget again?”

“Two thousand.” 

“Dude, thats like, nothing.” Roman was incredulous.

“We  don’t all have parents that are willing to pay for 20,000 dollar weddings, Roman.” Logan sent an exhausted glare Romans way.

“You’re right, sorry, sorry.” Roman sighed. “Let me see your budgeting spreadsheet that you’ve undoubtedly made.” 

Logan pulled out his laptop and handed it to the expectant Roman. He looked it over, brows furrowed a bit. “Will you freak out if decide to be your sugar daddy and pay for the food and venue?”

Logan’s heart skipped a beat. That was like half their budget problem. “Would you really?” He looked at Roman, eyes wide and hopeful. Roman smiled. 

“Of course, Lo.”


End file.
